I just started thinking about all the fun I used to have. I find it hard these days to remember all the things that were fun when I was young. Sometimes it is hard to imagine how some of those simple yet crazy things could have been fun but they sure were; and, oh, how I miss those moments so very much.
I can't tell you when exactly it happened but the word "fun" left my life. It was replaced with the word "enjoyment." I no longer have fun running through the sprays of water created by the sprinkler but I now enjoy going to a nice restaurant. There was so much fun to be had while trying to knock those cat-eyed marbles out of the circle drawn into the dirt but now I rather enjoy going to a theatre and watching a movie. Although I "enjoy" these new things, they don't have the excitement of those former pastimes that were so very much fun.
I remember when running just for the fun of it was good. My friends and I used to run and chase one another, and that was fun. I ran to my best friend's house because it was a quicker way to get there but it was also fun, and anything that was fun was worth doing.
My childhood friends and I used to play hide and seek. The idea of hiding from someone now seems silly but, oh boy, back then it was so much fun. We all knew the best hiding places so it was really a matter of who would be found first and who might give their presence away by laughing. I sometimes held my hand over my mouth to keep the giggles from pouring out.
Sleepovers were always fun. We would talk and laugh at really nothing at all but, for some reason, it didn't take much to make me laugh back then. Sleep was always the farthest thing from our minds. We watched TV, played board games and laughed. Finally, and only after every joke had been told, we fell asleep.
The feeling of the newly mowed grass on my feet as I ran barefoot through the yard was so incredibly great. The loose grass would get stuck between my toes and, every once in a while, I stopped to push the blades of cut grass away. But that was so much fun!
Tag was a game that my friends and I never tired of. Sometimes the game would start without notice and only because one of the kids touched another. "Tag, you're it." The game was then on. Sometimes the chasing and tagging the next "it" person would last until my mom called me in for dinner.
When I was young, I knew that the best place to watch the world go by was from the branch of a tree. If I do say so, and without bragging, I was a pretty darn good tree climber. I guess some were just better than others when it came to shimmying up those tall old trees. What a view of the world around me I had as I quietly sat and watched everything below. Now, that was fun!
Playing catch was fun. I remember those warm summer evenings when my best friend Bob and I tossed a baseball back and forth. Thinking back on it, I guess the real attraction was the conversation we had as the ball made that familiar sound as it struck the pocket of the worn leather glove. I recall that some of those old baseballs were only held together by a few red stitches but that didn't seem to matter. Those games of catch were fun.
It didn't matter what motion picture was playing, going to the drive-in was fun. The car would be parked on one of those mounds of dirt and resting slightly uphill. That slight uphill alignment allowed for the best viewing angle. My father rolled down the door's window and hung the speaker on the glass. Hopefully, the cord would reach. The volume was turned up and I sat in the back seat watching the pre-feature cartoons. During intermission, my mom and I headed for the concession stand where salty hot buttered popcorn and Coke's were bought. Who could ask for more fun than that?
Darkness did not dampen the amount of fun I had one little bit. We traded daytime tag for flashlight tag. When the batteries in the old metal flashlights ran low, we chased and caught fireflies. When we tired of catching and releasing the tiny flying points of light, we talked and told ghost stories. I miss those warm summer nights spent with my friends.
There was excitement and great fun when my mother took me to the store to buy a new pair of tennis shoes. When the cardboard I placed against the hole in the old ones no longer kept the water away from the soles of my feet, my mother took me to the shoe store. What fun that was to get a brand new pair of white canvass Keds.
I miss swimming in Elk River. Those sharp river bottom rocks smarted a bit as I walked into the water but, once in deep enough, the water felt so good. My great aunt Rosalyn never got into the water but sat and watched from the bank. On the other hand, my grandmother, Phoebe, a very robust woman, often got wet. She taught me the dog paddle. Those days were filled with adventure and fun.
Fun was getting the whipped cream from a hot fudge sundae on your face. Playing pin the tail on the donkey at birthday parties was fun. Dancing with my best girl at the high school dance was fun. Now, and as I type the words for this story, a lot of things were fun way back when.
Fun or enjoyment? Maybe it's nothing more than a matter of semantics. Now, just let me think about that for a minute. Nope, that's not it. Fun and enjoyment are two completely different things and, without a doubt, fun is a whole lot better -- and more fun too!
Stan Fine is a retired police officer and Verizon Security Department investigator who, after retiring in 2006, moved from Tampa, Fla., to Noel. Stan's connection to Noel can be traced back to his grandparents who lived most of their lives there. Stan began writing after the passing of his wife Robin in 2013. Opinions expressed are those of the author.